I Am Resolute
by jessspider
Summary: Spoiler 2x13. Mild canon/slight AU. Felicity walked in on Oliver and Sarah but did not reveal this fact until a week later to this how Felicity dealt with that - was meant to be short one-shot but now a place for my season two character POVs. Spoiler 2x18; Oliver's POV on Felicity's recent influence; Felicity POV UPDATE: Felicity has a visitor. Felicity POV post-ep fic 2x19
1. I am resolute

**A/N:** Spoiler for Season 2x13. Not-exactly canon/slight AU.

**Summary:** Felicity walked in on Oliver and Sarah, but did not share that information until a week later, when she let it slip to Oliver. This is about Felicity's thoughts and her resolution. Short one-shot piece.

**Rating:** K, **Genre:** Angst

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters of Arrow, or Arrow. Just borrowing in humble appreciation.

* * *

Felicity halted. She didn't know what to do. He was staring at her. Worse. He was approaching her now. She was perched against her desk, both hands behind her bracing her weight, tightly holding onto the edge. She didn't mean to say what she had. Her mouth ran away from her again. Heart racing, she could feel the air sucked out from her lungs, as clichéd as that could ever be. It wasn't the first time that he could do that to her. But this time she was in trouble. This time, her heart was near ready to completely arrest if it beat any faster.

In less than a second, his dark eyes were now inches away from her own, his heated gaze penetrating her soul. His hands were slowly reaching up towards her now flushed face. Cradling her, she held her breath, his own breath near upon her lips.

'Felicity..' he whispered, the lightest of whispers, a feather touch upon her heart.

She closed her eyes, tears prickling the back of her eyelids and unwilling to let her nose wrinkle over the intense feelings brimming from within her.

'I promised you once, and I will promise you again, you will never lose me,' his voice breaking now, realising his earlier mistake in thinking he could spend time with Sara without it some how affecting his Girl-Wednesday

'Forgive me, Felicity.' And then with a greater sense of conviction he spoke more firmly, 'I am the one who would be lost if you ever left me.' The irony was not lost on him. He could barely speak knowing that anything more he said would come across as empty sounding. How could he explain Sara? Sara was the metaphorical island in his momentarily madness, she was the temporary land upon which his ship was anchored from the broken compass he found himself holding. But Felicity, she was the stars, that guided his lost ship in the darkness and showed him the way. His world had shattered and Sara was there, with all her past history and their present history and she was home. He was broken and hurting. It didn't mean Felicity was valued any less.

And there it was, Felicity thought, her brain just barely able to register the words Oliver presented before her, his truth, awaiting her judgement. She could sense there was more, but there was something about hearing any more that would not have altered things any better.

Felicity could barely contain herself. She did not want to be in his presence in that moment, she was unable to breath, drowning in his aura, his immensity. She was rendered immobilised in her thoughts and emotions. What was she supposed to do? She started to feel like those proverbial rabbits caught in headlights of deathly indecisiveness.

'No..' she said, quietly at first, as if gasping for air. She turned her head downwards and tried to release it from his grasp. He loosened his hold a little. Then more firmly, Felicity repeated, 'No!'

She released her hands from the edge of the desk, using it to push her off it and side-step from Oliver. She was backing away from him, away from the desks now, and trying to make a bee-line for the exit. She needed some space. She needed some time to understand, to process what he said.

His rendez-vous with Sara was another unspoken painful reality of their non-existent, undefined relationship.

She needed time to think.

'Oliver, I have to go… I need some time to think…' she answered his question, unuttered by him but evident nonetheless. She did not want to hurt him, despite how she was feeling. That was all she could say. She didn't want to lose him either, but she needed to redefine things for herself first.

'Felicity…wait..' he urged. A strained looked passed across his beautiful features.

'Oliver…I can't Oliver…you know you mean the world to me, but I can't….I need time to think….I promise I'm not leaving …but I need some space…' she trailed off, painfully constricted inside. Her eyes were downcast, her eye brows knotted. This was all the reassurance she could give him, but in order to save herself from him, she needed to step away from the lair right now.

She had confronted him about Sara not two minutes ago. Her mouth slipped, and she let it be known that she had known about his night antics with the blonde vigilante. A week ago, she happened to walk in on the both of them from afar, unrealised by either of them from the shadows. That night, she consciously swiftly turned back, and slightly tracked back up the steps, as hush hush as she could. She was bewilderedly confused. Questions flooded her mind ever since then. _How? Why was she even surprised? Felicity, what did you think would happen? That he would come to you with open arms? After you revealed to him the truth of his family, something which she warned you would shatter his world? But more inevitably, that which would cause him to always see her as the one who caused more hurt, despite his obvious hate for his mother, Moira was right, he would never look at her the same way. How could he?_

And so she confronted him, albeit a week later. She had spent some time processing everything. She told him she knew, but that she couldn't blame him for not liking her anymore for being the bearer of the worst news possible, for inextricably worsening the myriad of lies he now had to keep from his family and be part of. Sure, he was grateful for her honesty, he expected nothing less of her, but, he subconsciously, clearly, placed distance between them.

He asked her to go home that night. A sign that there were demons he had to exercise, and he didn't want her there. At least that is what she told herself. How was she to know that she would find him being comforted in the arms of his old flame? How was she to know? Felicity didn't belong to Oliver and neither Oliver to felicity, so why should this have been a shock to her? After Rochev and Russia, this should not have been a surprise. But, it stung. Still stung.

Squaring her shoulders as she quickly left from the lair with great hardship, she reminded herself that she was intelligent, blonde 'au bottelle' not 'au naturelle' and that she was stronger and psychologically sounder. Sound enough to understand that she should have realised that between the two of them were nothing more than a partnership of everything except of the sexually intimate sort. She was in effect, being dim-witted, she told herself, to have hoped for something more, to have thought that there could have been something more, to think for a moment that she should have the right to interfere in his intimate life.

Even if she admitted this to herself, she quickly concluded that her heart needed to catch up with her mind and this long-running, unintentional or intentional desire to be something more had to be reigned in.

She got into her car and started the ignition, the engine roaring to life, before she shifted gears to move out. She drove back to her apartment, her thoughts still vying for her attention.

She was his partner in work. Arrow's partner. Partner in fighting crime and saving the city, a superhero's partner. She was nothing more than the crux of Team Arrow, and the crutches he leaned on, and she could be that, she did love him enough to be that, but she would never be anything more than that.

The sooner she realised this, made it her mantra, made it her reality, the sooner it would hurt less. The sooner she could go back to being what she was good at, maximising her efficiency and wasting less time on useless feelings. She was being harsh with herself. But that's what one does when survival becomes a necessity.

She loved him, but she knew where she needed to stand.

Seconds of thinking turned into minutes, and before she realised it, she had been sitting in her car, parked infront of her apartment, never having occurred to her that she had already arrived and had been sat in the car for a good hour before making a move to stand.

Yes, of course she loved him, but she knew where she needed to stand, for her heart, for her own survival, for Team Arrow.

Resolute, she stepped out of the car.

She would move forward from this. There was no doubting it. She was not new to challenge or to heart complaints. She was Felicity, and if anyone knew her, she would not be held hostage to anyone least of all herself.

'Tomorrow is a new day,' she said to herself, as she approached her apartment door. Turning the key into the lock, and entering in, she dropped her back to the side, removing her coat and flinging it to the couch as she simultaneously toed off her shoes. She entered into her bedroom dropping herself to her bed, the look of Oliver's face entering her mind's eye.

Curling up into the foetal position, she whispered to herself in exhausted certainty, before drifting into an undercurrent of fitful sleep,

'I know what I must do.'


	2. Voice of Reason

**Spoiler for 2x18 - warning**

**Author's notes:** I was originally going to post this as a separate entry, but I feel that as it is Oliver's point of view and still fits in with some element of my previous one-shot, that I shall share it here. This is more of a place for my Oliver/Felicity thought processes during the remainder of season 2. It is partly in canon - but I'm taking a few liberties where I feel I can.

Thank you for taking the time to read. I am rather tentative about this. The episode desperately generated a lot of feelings that needed an outlet. I tend to write to explore, rather than to necessarily impose.

**Summary:** Oliver is thinking about Felicity's recent influence. Some mention of Diggle, some mention of Sara.

**Disclaimer:** Not my characters. Belong to CW and DC Comics.

* * *

The voice of reason.

Her voice, her words, broke through my angry haze and settled on my heart. She held me in her commanding gaze, respect and understanding flowing in certain interaction between us. My earlier momentary tirade of desperation and all things tired and of droning repetitiveness was stilled in an instant.

In the distant corner of my subconscious mind, I noted her directive. I noted her straight talking, absence of my Felicity's classic ramble. This was my girl, my Felicity's classic no-nonsense talking.

Laced between her words and our respective demeanour, was an age-long trust. I was pulsating with purpose, moving with the green-light to go full on Green Arrow and take the lives I may need to take, to save Thea. I saw Felicity clearly, and I heard her words, and what they really meant between us. I killed once to save her, and I may have to kill again to do what is necessary to save once more.

As I stared at her face, her sharp gaze piercing through those reflective glasses, fuchsia coloured lips punctuating every last word, her arms wrapped around herself, betraying her ever assured moment to speak out to me.

My girl Wednesday, the one who remarkably manages to reach me, when I can barely reach myself. My girl Wednesday, who has somehow always been my constant in a way that continues to surprise me. Constancy amongst the variables that have entered into my life since my return from the island, both times. My ever certain South star.

I hear it all clearly now, washing over me, and I am renewed. In the corner of my mind, I heard Sara try to tell me that it was just another psychological game of chess which Slade was terrorising me with. But in that moment, nothing was going to stop me now from finding my sister. I wasted all day, and I had to act.

Diggle respectfully remained ever silent, my stoic bodyguard-wingman. Felicity, my partner, without any shame, gave me what I needed to hear.

A voice of reason in the darkness, I cannot say, but my voice of reason in my darkness? I would have to agree.

Between us was a moment where if I could have touched her I might have, but the energy between the four of us in that room, went beyond a live wire. I needed to run regardless. I knew her radiant support would be there now.

There would be time for reproach later if I was wrong.

Turning on my heels, I geared up and began my belated mission.

* * *

That evening, as I lay upon the cot once more in the lair, Sara not present beside me, I thought again about Felicity. It was not for the first time that day nor for the first time since our partnership that she had spoken her mind out to me.

The glint of a challenge in her eyes as I was asked by her to attend more work related appointments, and to be the CEO of Queen Consolidated. I did as she asked on this occasion, how could I resist the look on her face and the words she spoke out loud against my business attire. It was, in hindsight, an odd foreshadowed moment. My suit in a cold glass case. Be that both of my suits, both of my personas. My day and night masks. Why on earth did I not listen to her sooner? Waving pink slips in my face previously, trying to flag up my other work responsibility. For all the difficulties in my life of late, with Slade and everything else of importance that I had felt deserved my attention and control, his unbelievable slight of hand and misdirection truly winded me. I am stupid. And I lost my position. I am stupid and I am that fratboy Felicity referenced ever so unabashedly. I am more than that, I am an idiot for not taking her advice any sooner and for thinking that I could trust for one second, Rochev over her.

And it took that moment, in the lair, for her presence to be known again to me.

I knowingly pushed her to the side the last few weeks. I pushed her to the side because I could not set sail my ship again. I have been so focused on trying to keep things from falling apart, that I didn't realise that I was never standing on solid ground. Old weakened wood, from a ship waterlogged. My juggling these balls in the air, stopped the moment I put my foot the wrong way. I fell through the decking and I still need to repair everything.

I am on an island still. Anyone would say that I am re-living this island for the simple fact that I have lost my purpose for living. Controlling this game, this way, my way, would only be in an effort to protect myself from the trauma I know I never will admit that I am still scarred by. I am with Sara because I am still scarred. I am with Sara because I am damaged.

As I lie here now, staring up at the ceiling, unable to sleep, I realise something. I am with Sara because I do not see how a beautiful, intelligent thing, like Felicity Smoak, should be infected with me. I need her. I keep her at distance for both of our survival.

But this day, I am broken.

I need her now, more than ever. And more then ever, she stays now.

When I saw her face, as she walked ever more assured in her words towards me, ever betrayed again by her folded arms, afraid of my rejection of her, when she fervently swore to me, 'Yes you can', I was pinned to my spot. I was rendered.

I had to look at her.

What made her so sure?

I most certainly did not deserve her, nor Diggle. For some reason they both stayed. They had more than proven themselves to me, but had I proven myself to them? And yet, I will be forever grateful to them. My original trust bearers. I know how Diggle watched my back. I know that Felicity had eyeballed every image with even the slightest clue of Slade's whereabouts with Thea. She did that for my sister. _It's Thea_, I heard her say.

I had nothing to offer them, yet they wanted to know what the next move was.

My partner and my wingman watched me hopeful and resolute. I offered the only words I could, the only conclusion that I was left to arrive at. We had to fight.

There was no other option.

Fight and win, or die trying.

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_Thank you for reading.. you wonderful people..._


	3. Game Face

**Author's notes:** Felicity has been thinking about recent events - and can't help but admit to herself her love for this man, Oliver, the Arrow. Okay, so major warning - just a lot of angst here and Felicity processing re: 2x18

**Rating: T Genre: Angsty**

**Disclaimer:** As before, I own nothing of these characters and they belong to DC comics and the CW

**Feedback:** Thank you all for taking the time to read my little contribution to your this wonderful world, thank you for your follows, for your comments, and for your favoriting/alerts. So grateful to you all.

* * *

My heart has been dying a little each day ever since Sara came into our lives and ever since I told Oliver about the truth of Thea and his mother's secret. It has been worse than this. I miss the time we would spend together, or the opportunity I would get to boss him around. The truth of the matter was that I was distancing myself from Oliver as much as he was in distance with me.

Our last few weeks have been nothing more than about the work, and not anything more about anyone else's business. We hadn't spoken in a while, save for the time I was drug-induced with oxycodone.

Ever since that day, I feel that something shifted slightly between us. I admitted my fears to him, that I was not worthy in some way of still being important to him or to the cause, that my skills didn't meet what he needed, what the team needed, what I needed to be for myself. Ultimately, I felt like I had to push myself to be the best, because, for what purpose could I serve, if I was not up to scratch? I had to push my game against Tockman. He assured me that I was still his girl. It would have been bittersweet if not for the pill that I was on which had dulled the pain.

That night in the lair, after I confronted Oliver about his antics with Sara, I told him I needed space. I left him there, and had to return back to my apartment, back to something that still held a piece of the original Felicity. I recalibrated myself, set my gears in neutral, and reined all hope of something more with Oliver. I knew he would never leave me, but could not I see myself still functioning with a heart I was wearing on my sleeve. A heart which at any time could be mashed. And so it was, I have been for the last few weeks, doing what I must. Being the best I can be, what this Team needs, believing in the cause and believing in the Arrow.

And, I will admit, that in the hidden part of my heart that I keep for Oliver, try as I might, not to, I was also there for him, being the friend, the consummate professional, and the secret girl in love with him.

That morning, I don't know what overcame me, but I admitted out loud to Roy and the others in the Foundry that telling the truth inevitably meant that something was bound to go wrong, as wrong as being struck by lightning, and thus, ever telling the truth was not a wise idea for Felicity Smoak. I don't know if this was my subconscious talking, or that secret part of my heart that wanted to tell Oliver how I felt for him, but the truth was, any truth I was going to reveal, would not end well. It was what I came to believe. If being struck by the heavens was any indication, then it was best not to mess with fate. Little did realise how much this actually mattered.

It was one of those days. A day where, I did need to tell Oliver the truth, for all the irony. The truth about his needing to attend to work. The last time I shoved pink papers up to his face, was before his relationship with Sara began. He pretty much gave me the same answer as he did before. That he couldn't be CEO, that he had to take care of things Slade related. It was my turn to inform him of his important duties as CEO.

I berate myself for unwisely jinxing his business attire, if that had any role whatsoever in the eventuality that followed.

Oliver lost his whole position in one fell swoop. An unbelievable strategic chess move that was entirely because he place his trust where he should not have. I cannot berate him for this, because I know he is already berating himself.

The truth is, Isabel Rochev, is another sensitive subject between the two of us. But on this occasion, if I had known what he was doing, I would have single handedly ripped that piece of paper from her hands and burnt it where we stood.

As it were, I spent my entire afternoon and evening at my desk trying to run scans on my tablet and my desk computer, all the while taking calls, until Diggle and Roy arrived. When I called Oliver away from his office, I had no idea that he had signed his life away.

He would sign his life away. He would sign his life away for any of the ones he loved. And in this case, his sister Thea, was of his most dearly beloved.

All the while I was at my desk and the computer, I would catch his eyes looking in my direction, asking if I had anything new. And each time, I had to shake a 'no' in his direction. Our eyes locked several times, during the course of the couple of hours wherein the police, Rochev and everyone else descended.

It hurt me to see him that way. It hurt me to see him that way. I ache just remembering how he looked in that office. He was ready to pounce into action, but he was tied by being Oliver Queen, son of Moira Queen, CEO of Queen Consolidated, business partner of Isabel Rochev, brother of Thea Queen, and 'civilian'.

I poured over every CCTV capture and every piece of footage and photo I could gather, piece by piece I searched for any sign, any clue I could to find Thea, to find Slade, to find a trace of where she had gone. We had nothing on her phone, no trace. We were working blind. The only thing I caught sight of, by a stroke of luck, was a licence plate number.

I could not bear to see him or her suffer. I had to push my game harder than ever. The police were not doing anything. And I knew he was relying on me, even though he was not saying a thing. We trusted each other that way. Ever since he first showed up in my office with his bullet ridden laptop. We trusted each other that way. He didn't need to say, and I didn't need to ask. He didn't need to imply, and I didn't need to confirm. He knew my skills with the computer, and I knew of the best I could give. But he would not admit to my face that secretly he was hoping I had something, and I would not admit to him, that secretly, I knew I had to deliver and could fail.

Not just for his sanity, or his sake, or for her, and her life, but for me, my heart, my soul, I was not going to fail to be his reliable Girl-Wednesday, but nor was I going to fail to be the one of many who could not help but love this man. This man who was trying to be better, and good, and save all those around him, and this city.

Much later, in the Foundry, as he was then dressed as the Arrow, I was no longer able to stay silent. I must have surprised everyone, because Oliver was silenced by my words. As we locked eyes, a silent conversation passed between us. Please be safe, I told him unspoken. I will, he seemed to answer back with his dark blue gaze.

Time stilled in that moment. I never spoke more directly to him, than I had in that moment. With such conviction, my heart could no longer take it, to see him have to argue his cause, his plight, his mission, to have to seek permission to do what he needed to do. He was pleading but not wanting to go against the status quo, the team code, but he would likely do this anyway, without support. I could not let him do this. He had to know that I had his back. He had to know that he was not alone. He had to know that he had permission to go and do what he had to do. What he had to do to bring Thea back.

I wanted to touch him.

But all I could give him was my promise of support.

I felt him accept it.

Jaw set, blue eyes piercing deep into my own, game face on, he turned around and was on his determined way.

When later we learnt of Thea's safe arrival, it came with the worst underhand move from Slade. Oliver let me know that Thea now thought she had been lied to for years by her older brother. He didn't tell me this, face to face. He texted it to me. It was much of a big reveal to have Oliver tell me this via text, that it worried me.

I tried to call him back, but there was no response.

My next move was to call Diggle. It was solidly decided between us that our alliance had not changed.

As if one man could not lose more in one night than anyone person could bear. From the owner of billion dollar company, to a spirit trampled on with a sister who regarded him no longer, to losing Roy for a team mate, to being the one who instigated the loss of that relationship, to Sara blaming him for who Slade now was.

He was not going to be on his own tonight. We were going to find him no matter what. We brought him back from the island after the Earthquake of the Glades, we would be there for him now, in the aftermath of Slade. The damage was still being done, and he needed to know, he needed to know beyond a doubt that he was not alone nor back on that deathly island.

I would not let him be lost again.

I would make damn sure that he would not be lost again.

We were going to fight this.

He needed to know that we were going to fight this with him.

He just needed to believe it.

And it seems that my planning paid off, because when entered into that Foundry again for the final time that night, he seemed surprised if not ashamed if not disappointed that we should be there for him, an unworthy look on his face. A broken look on his face.

His shoulders appeared bowed, his head hung low, his stance that of one in humility and defeat.

He asked Diggle and I what we were doing there.

He seemed unsatisfied with our response, that he had to ask again.

Damn him! Damn him to hell and his gorgeous stubble.

I wanted to punch this stupid man. This man I could not help but love.

When he paused, admitting his apparent defeat, with Roy, the company, Thea, and suggesting that there was no way he could keep Slade out of his head, or stop him from doing anything, something exploded within me once more. I point blank refused to let him think like that. He was going to listen to me if it was that last thing he did!

I loved him too much to have him believe that.

I told him straight once more.

Yes you can Oliver. You can stop him.

Like a forlorn child he looked at me, still in doubt, asking me what made me so sure.

And if it wasn't for the fact that Diggle spoke up first, I would have told him all the reasons why.

And it was good that Diggle spoke.

Because he looked at me again, like this conversation had not yet finished, but he seemed more resolved. Diggle and I, did the right thing to be there for him. We did the right thing to show him that he was never alone, that our team was still here, and that we could do this together.

And I was glad, because my goal had been achieved.

He now resounded a firm echo of my own already strongly assured sentiments.

And it took every ounce of me not to fist pump the air and grab hold of him when he said the words I wanted him to say.

_Now we fight back._

A fierce surge of pride entered into my soul as my heart beat secure in the knowledge that my Arrow was not to be defeated, and that Team Arrow would prevail once more.

Game face on, bring it Slade. We'll be waiting.

* * *

_Thank you for reading, you lovely audience - and a major thank you to those who are reviewing, favoriting, following...:)_


	4. Oliver goes to see Felicity

**Author's Notes:** This is 4900 words of pointlessness that just needed to be written. Nothing much happens in it, so I warn you and apologise in advance. But there is a lot of Felicity POV and angst, and it is still mildly AU and partly parallel to canon, and in one sense is following a thread common to the previous chapters and partly related to my first chapter. I just wanted to see Felicity at her place, post-episode, and this is what this is. Oliver comes to see her, and although nothing much happens, there is an unspoken something there between them. I sincerely apologise for this. And I am ever grateful to you for giving me the time of day, and reading my crazy! This is some sort of therapy for me lol.

Much love to all of you.

**Title:** Oliver goes to see Felicity

**Rating:** As mild as you can get. **Genre:** Angst, UST. **Disclaimer:** I do not own these characters, they belong to CW and DC comics. And possible flashback to a moment in the X-files.

**Special thank yous to the following reviewers: Thank you for taking the time to leave a review and for your words of encouragement and thoughts: **SandraDeee, lizzybennettdarcy, guest, guest, CassandraBlake, Sakura-blossom62, smoak999, nellysh, Lady Paine, Dark-Supernatural-Angel, lateVMlover

* * *

When I hoped that I might find myself in Oliver's arms again I should have known that the universe would see it fit that it would be another one of those moments in which my life would need to be saved once more. Yes, it was indeed an alternative rendition of his previous life saving gesture. Only this time, fascinatingly absent was the chain, or rope, or arrow-with-rope-suspended-to-the-ceiling-thing by which we swung through the air. No, this time, Oliver parkoured (if that's even a word) the both of us off the metal staircase, push-balancing off the railing on one hand, myself snugly under the other arm to guide us to a defensive position behind said metal staircase. Crouching on the floor, yes, his impressive body shielding my own as we watched Slade The Maniac, do his thing. I certainly felt like I had swung in the air, albeit, more like back-flipped, and I daresay that if I had had longer to think about it, I would have said that I certainly felt completely swept off my feet in more ways than one, my Tarzan making another appearance, but the truth was, I didn't know what was happening and fear most certainly had firmly gripped my heart.

To be honest, the whole experience was rather overwhelming. I can barely process what happened. So I won't. But I will say this, I'd love to do more parkour and I have never been scared for Oliver as I had been then. I recognise my own flippancy except I can't help it. Shock and this whole ordeal the last day or so has a way of doing that to me, what with blowing up things and wearing an ill-fitting balaclava and Oliver following my plans that really he shouldn't be doing.

So, when Oliver, left me, to fight Slade, his cat like moves no match for his mentor it was everything I had in me not to leave my position and take aim myself. With what I wonder - I'm sure I could have figured something out. It happened then, that Slade disappeared, and I had to rush to reverse the switch that Diggle aptly flipped earlier.

Admittedly, the whole thing shook Oliver too, but he will not admit it. To be truly fair, I think seeing Slade, standing there, in our home, our sanctified space, shook all of us. The devil paid us a visit, and we ridiculously all thought we were safe. Clearly we needed a wake up call. We were not defeated though. We were by far from defeated. Or so we thought. I should have realised it, but he stole something from us. The skeleton key.

* * *

Later, when I had to call Oliver, I'm not sure if I overstepped my mark, but I told him. Told him to forgo Slade and save his fortunes. Do I wear my heart on my sleeve? Well, I think it was more a matter of running with the fact that Oliver was listening to me a little too much now. It really needed to be said. Damn, I mean, when I came up with that plan, to take down the Applied Sciences facility, I honestly never thought he would take it seriously. It was too much right? To dramatic? But then, we couldn't risk the Mirakuru getting out in any way shape or form. Just my luck then, we engaged in a terrorist act. Well. And then some.

So I had Oliver's attention, and why wouldn't I. I'm his Girl-Wednesday. Friday. Whatever. Yes. Yes. But he'll never know my feelings for him are more than just being that for him. So I do my girl Girl duties and in this instance, I really have to tell him straight, Oliver, you have to save your family first.

And I break, when he growls to me, that there will be people who may have less than that, if he doesn't stop Slade.

Oliver's humility is dumbfounding, and I am caught in my breath as he hangs up. A few minutes later he meets me in the lair as I give him locations for Slade's latest evil party. We barely exchange any more words, there isn't more to say. He gears up, looks at me once, places his com in his ears, barely nods, and heads out. I contact Diggle to let him know where he's headed. Later he brings back Roy. We're trying to save Roy. He hands me the Mirakuru. Asks for a cure.

We say no more.

I need to make a quick and fast trip back to my friends down at Star Labs. This is our only and most intense defensive move yet. If there was ever a time for stealth, it would be now.

And thus my part in this, his reliance on me.

* * *

Back in my flat, I shut the door behind me, and toe off my shoes. This was definitely a day of days. We have certainly had many of those since the start of this business. We're feeling it though.

As I dump my keys in the corner in its safe place, I remove my coat and leave it on the chair. Walking over to my couch, I dump my bag on the end of the seat and pull both my tablet and my phone out, taking them with me to my bedroom.

Sisko had texted me to let me know that they were starting work on our little secret and they'd have an update on things by the morning. It was already nearly morning what with the trip I had just made and the late night we all had. I was so tired. Tired and wired. I left my gadgets on the bed, went to my wardrobe to grab an old comfortable t-shirt and shorts and pair of underwear and headed straight for the shower.

Showers are always a delight. I love especially the Niagara Falls setting on the shower head, beating down hard hot spray. My back, shoulders, my every aching bone, muscle, my whole body was just suddenly relaxed under the feel of this gorgeous contraption. Squeezing out a generous portion of shampoo onto my hands and lathering up the apple and raspberry loveliness into my hair and all over my body, I shut my eyes as I listened to the sounds of the water wash away the day and all of its stress.

I was so focused on the sounds of Niagara Falls, I barely realised that this form of meditation had left me standing there for a good five minutes lavishing in the hot water. It was only because thoughts of Oliver entered my mind that I opened my eyes.

I could see that expression on his face. As he held me close to him. Crouching from where I was, I could see his profile, his fight face on, possibly fear face. All the while, he was holding me back, blocking me with his body and one hand up to the stairs. Then at the lair, when he handed me the Mirakuru, there was more there, there was that trust he was leaving with me. I know when Oliver is tense. I know that face of his. I also know when he's asking without asking.

Rinsing off and shutting down the water. I grabbed the fluffly brown and white polka dot towel on the railing and wrapped myself in it tightly and stood momentarily to stare at myself in the mirror.

There was an ominous feeling pervading my senses.

Unable to put my finger on it, I towelled off properly, changing into the clothes I had brought in earlier. I replaced the towel in a tight wrap on my head, containing the crazy wet mess that was now my blonde hair.

Oliver's face would not leave me.

In the mirror, I could see my reflection, but the image of his broken state after he lost his company came back to my mind's eye, the vision of his face almost superimposed on my own. Oliver's guilt was serving him now. His earlier admission to us, that he chose to kill Slade instead of cure him, played over and over in my head.

Oliver's humiliation was still evident. His humility before us, Slade and now his sister, before the memory of his own father, before the idea of Rochev.

I closed my eyes again, feeling somewhat emotional about it. So he revealed to me in a moment between the team regroup after Slade's attack that Rochev had been involved with his father. He seemed bitten, stung.

I quickly performed my night time face care routine and left the bathroom, switching off the lights.

I sat on the end of my bed and applied some baby oil to my legs, working out the remains of the tension that my calves and my feet may have held. As I placed the bottle of oil back on my bedside table I spotted my now redundant Queen Consolidated badge. No, I hadn't really returned it, but it would not serve any major purpose now. Although, I laugh soberly that if this all works out, it may not be entirely redundant.

Oliver didn't really look at me in the lair when he had made that admission with regards to killing Slade. But casting a glance at Sara, I could tell that this was a secret with a deeper story, as yet to really be shared. It was unlikely to be shared.

I sighed.

I picked up my phone, an unread text message blinking for attention. From Oliver. Sent 10 minutes ago, during my shower.

_What if this doesn't work?_ He had texted.

My brows furrowed. He was doubting. Doubting the likelihood of getting a cure or its effectiveness. Or was he doubting that we could pull this off? Or doubting himself?

They say that we are connected in ways than what we can see in this three dimensional existence. Telepathy of sorts. My thinking of him and seeing him this these few moments seems to be significant in some way. I worry now, I feel as though he is calling out but unable to say so.

I want to answer him but I cannot bring myself to text him back any response to his question. I needed to see him.

_Where are you? _I text back quickly, my desperate fingers tapping over memorized keypad letters.

There was no response.

_Oliver?_

_Outside._

Closer than I thought.

_Come inside, Oliver._

He needed to talk, it was clear.

I swiftly moved to unlock the door to my apartment, barely aware of the fact that my hair was wrapped in a towel, and that I was wearing old unflattering clothing. But I couldn't stand to have him wait out there any longer. The very idea that he was outside my door, possibly for a while longer than I thought, given the timing of his text, made me feel awful.

Standing there on the other side of the door, in his black jacket, black jeans and grey shirt, phone in one hand, motorcycle keys in the other, stood the man that I had been pondering over way too much in the last few weeks.

His deep blue eyes caught mine, head tilted ever so slightly at an angle, lips pressed together, and brows knotted in anxious tension.

I smiled at him, an apologetic expression upon my own face, as I gestured for him to come inside.

Oliver nodded once, walking toward me as I moved from the door to give him access. He quickly closed the door behind us, bolting it shut, a somewhat nervous giveaway of his current feelings, in view of Slade and recent antics.

He stood there for a moment, head bowed and almost classic Arrow stance.

Hesitantly I took a step toward him. _What's wrong Oliver?_ I wanted to ask. But I already knew what was wrong. I needed him to say it. I needed him to speak, to utter those words and put a voice to his demons.

Tentatively I touched his forearm and he stilled. I could see him regarding my hand. His beautiful jaw tensed, much older stubble now further beautifying his defining features.

'Oliver,' I whispered quietly, in a tone that would hopefully urge out that lost boy inside, and guide him to safety.

He locked onto my eyes then, a deep pull of emotions swirling in those ocean blues. The expression on his face betraying what he seemed to keep hidden, that recent events almost meant the loss of our team.

And even though, he might not say it, we all felt that fear, that we could lose each other. Diggle, Sara, Oliver, myself.

He was still trained to that same spot, his ever Arrow stance only this time, without his hood or mask, and he was clear to see as day. Oliver was doubting whether this plan would work, whether we could defeat Slade. Our secret weapon now, was that of a Mirakuru cure. His being here, standing partway in my living room and near my front door seemed almost as though he was seeking reassurance that this was in hand, that this plan could succeed, that our team would make it. His standing there, was testament to the fact that Slade's devilish psychological whispers were still getting the better of him.

I could not guarantee a cure for Oliver.

How could I put that doubt out of his mind? I could only promise that I was doing everything in my power to ensure we had a cure, even if that meant going everyday to Star Labs to personally oversee the efforts of Barry's colleagues. But then that may draw suspicion to me, us.

I could only promise that I was working my damnedest to bring my game to the table. And somehow, I had to let Oliver know that. I knew that he knew this already. But it was always worth giving voice to our demons.

'It will work, Oliver,' I begin to say louder, with conviction. 'I…'

Then I stop.

I look down at my hand on his forearm, and back up at him. I realise oddly for a brief moment that I have a towel wrapped around my head and fear that my words might not penetrate this empty space between us.

I reach across to touch his face gently, similar to when I remove blood of his face ever so long ago.

I stare directly into his eyes and straighten taller in his presence, gripping his forearm more firmly now, as the need I have inside to get what I need to say out becomes more than I can bear, and so I continue, firmly. That little boy will not be not lost, and is most certainly not alone. Not if I was to have anything to do with it.

'I have some very trustworthy friends who are working on delivering that cure. We will make it Oliver. And until then, we still fight. We still plan, and we still ensure we have every defensive and offensive move, as many as we can, down and in every place we can. Any and every idea, we have to put it on the table, we have to, and we will ensure every fail safe is in place. We learn from these mistakes, we're not going to get it right first time, but we're going to do our damndest to make sure and we're certainly not going to give up. We're with you, and we will be there with you every step of the way. We will win this Oliver, you have to know that, we will win this.'

I pause for a second, willing him to understand. My other hand, earlier on his face, now gripping his other forearm, pulling him to look at me once more as I punctuate my speech with finality.

'I will not let you fall.'

A memory of jumping out of an aeroplane to bring him back to the land of our living, flashed across my mind. If I could jump out of an aeroplane for him, he had to know that I was serious.

Recognition seemed to flit across his face.

He pulled me in towards him for a fierce embrace. My towel bumped his face and I felt it loosen slightly. As I stood there, my head upon his heart, listening to his deep inhalations slow to a steady breathing rhythm, easing away the tension he was feeling, I closed my eyes and decided upon memorizing what it felt like to be in his arms once more. His warm chest, my face upon the soft cotton of his grey t-shirt resting comfortably to the firm definition of his beautiful body, his arms encircling me, cocooning away the madness that was our existence. I didn't want to leave his arms. I took a deep breath too, standing there with him, practically sighed.

We pulled away slowly, the both us.

He nodded his head. Looking down momentarily, almost ashamed to have had to come to me.

'Thank you,' he spoke with that same voice he had in the lair a few days ago, when he asked how it was that we could be so sure.

'Always.' I smiled at him, and squeezed his hand.

He gave a smile back. Soft, unsure but grateful.

* * *

I asked him if he wanted to stay a while longer, but he was hesitant. I told him that I was just going to go dry my hair quickly and that he could fix himself a drink if he wanted to. I doubted that he had had anything to eat, but I wasn't noticing. My earlier physically tired but mentally wired was no different.

I grabbed a dressing gown, and put it on, and let my now dry hair fall across my back. Walking out of my bedroom with my fluffy bunny slippers, I watched him from afar, standing in my kitchen, with his back to me.

It would be times like these that I would become torn.

I know that he is with Sara, and I already vowed to myself what it was I had to do, how I had to be, what it was I had to be for Team Arrow, for this relationship of sorts to work.

But I love him.

Tell me how can one not love him?

I'm not stupid though. I won't let my heart be crushed. I stand firmly out of the way here, not deliberately getting involved in any other sort of relationship with him except to be his Girl-Wednesday.

And there is something more that is bothering me. As someone who fits that role of being his Girl Wednesday, for survival, my survival, his survival, our survival, it was in my opinion, well within my rights at the time, despite my quid pro quo apology of selfishness, to level with him about where I felt he needed to stand on the whole Queen assets thing.

I sort of intuitively got the feeling this was still unresolved.

Whether to bring it up now or later, again, was the question.

Oliver turned around to look at me then. A half smile appearing on his face when he saw me, followed by a twinkle in his eye as he noticed my slippers.

Self conscious, I smirked back, and walked towards him.

'You're in my home now mister.' I warned him, 'No comments about the slippers,' I pointed to him.

'My lips are sealed,' he replied, the twinkle in his eye remaining.

I stepped towards him then.

But my intentions are to distract him from me for my own safety, for my own heart. It is easy to be possessive of Oliver, but possessiveness never helped a damn for anyone.

'How's Sara?' I asked.

'She's fine,' he spoke quietly, 'she's staying with Laurel overnight.'

I looked at him as he was looking at me, trying to decipher what was really passing between us.

Nodding, I respond, 'Oh,' I turn away from him to my fridge door. 'Is she okay?' I say while opening it. I pull out the milk carton slowly. I could feel his eyes on me from where I stood.

'She's fine. Sisterly bonding.' He explained.

Walking toward the kitchen counter, I set the carton upon the top, and reach out for a mug from the cabinet above. I asked another question for distraction.

'And dare I ask, how's Thea?' I say, softly, as I pour the milk into my mug, ever aware that he was still watching me.

I sense him shift then. I peek at him from the corner of my eye and see that he's looking down towards his own mug of what appeared to be water. I told him to fix himself a drink, and he fixed himself some water. My heart pinched.

'She left.' He held his breath, waiting it seemed for my onslaught.

When it didn't come from me, he continued.

'She didn't sign.'

And then he let go of his breath, exhaling hard. Jaw returning back to a state of being clenched, his lips pressed together and eye brows knotted once more.

My thoughts turn to his sister then, as I wonder what I could possibly do to help. This was a situation I would work on later, a few ideas of my own in mind, but for now, I was with Oliver. My poor attempt at distraction has me wanting to touch and wipe away that brow.

'She thinks all these years have been a lie, and that she doesn't belong with us. I told her that our father loved her and this somehow confirmed things in her mind for her. Every trust she's ever had seems to have been destroyed and I don't know how to fix this.'

'Oliver,' I shake my head.

He continues, 'Felicity,' and then he stops.

He drinks his water in one go, and then sets his mug down. I cannot help but watch him, this action.

'Oliver,' I say his name like a promise, 'we will figure this out.'

He locks eyes onto me once more. This time, I am caught in his gaze. I have run out of ways to distract him. The feelings running between us are intensified. I don't know if it is surprise, at my words, or what it is, but, he seems almost affected by me. Only that I should not care to imagine why that might be. He has Sara after all. They were merely words of reassurance. Although, deep down, I did mean it when I said that we would figure it out. Perhaps he saw that I had already made my mind up to work on this problem in my own way. This was like every other moment we may have had previously, but something about it suddenly felt like more. Ones where we would share our heartfelt thoughts. Because it couldn't be helped, because we both needed to hear it. When he saved me after the Count kidnapped me or our brief discussion after the whole Russia business. Both times, I didn't know why he made that choice, but he did. I think about that time, after his save from Count Vertigo - I could barely stop myself from crying, and then I saw he had been shot, and it was like my ordeal came second. My hero saved me then, he saved me before several times swinging in his arms, he did it again this in the last forty-eight hours when he parkoured me off the stairs and into the makeshift alcove beneath.

I don't think I said thank you to him. But these days it is much unspoken. These days ever since tornados of all sorts of crazy have whirlwind in an out of our lives, we haven't had a moment where it has just been still. Just been the two of us.

That offer to talk about whether we're having a bad day, well, it staled.

But it seemed as though now, we're sharing.

Is it a good thing? I don't know.

Time, as ever would only tell.

'Felicity,' he starts, moving toward me, but unsure if he should.

I want him to speak to me, I do, but a defensive mechanism kicks in and I speak first.

'Oliver, you've been through a lot these last few days. And this is one of those bad weeks, the sort of bad week that only those going through it might understand, but you've had a really bad week, I know, I understand, and I'm here, we're both alive, it's okay – and I am glad you came to me, because, well I've been worried, and let's face it, what are friends for, and we did say we could talk about our bad days right? I mean, to be honest, I am just grateful we're all alive –,' I seem to notice that one of my rambles has started and I find myself strangely unable to stop, I suddenly don't want Oliver to speak, so I have to speak for him, 'and I, what with everything, Oliver, I haven't had the chance to actually thank you for saving my life once again, I mean, I barely had the chance to really think about it, but I think that maybe I should learn how to do that, you know, parkour, maybe that could come into my training in the future, you know? But – what I mean to say is – you will get Thea back, I've got a tracker on her, and we will sort this out to.' I finally stop.

And he stares at me.

'Felicity Smoak,' he laughs breathlessly, shaking his head from side to side.

'Sorry,' I say back to him because I almost don't really know what else to say. I am on edge. I wanted to break that feeling between us, because everytime it's there, it's too much. My hair stands on end, my ears hear more than just my own heart beat, but his breathing, and his movement, everything becomes so acute, and it isn't good.

I made a resolution, and this has got to stay.

'Will you be okay?' he asks me, as he recognises for himself that perhaps he ought to change the situation and leave.

'Why are you asking? Are you leaving?' And I worry that my ramble was too much, and that Oliver really did need to speak to me, but I rudely interrupted him.

'I don't want to overstep the mark Felicity,' he says as he moves to walk out of the kitchen and towards the living room.

I follow him.

'You're fine Oliver,' I reassure him, 'you can stay if you want, rest here a couple of hours before we head back to the lair.'

He smiles then, thinking about it.

'How about this,' I say softly as we both stand in my living room, 'you stay, and when this whole ordeal is over and done with, you show me a few moves?'

One eyebrow of his rose upwards momentarily intrigued. I thought about what I said, and sighed.

'Parkour!' I said quickly, 'you know, how to jump from stairs and walls and that.'

He laughed.

'Come on Oliver, you need a good rest, and the lair is a mess right now, I need to fix it all up back together again, and I'd rather you not be there if Slade gets back although having said that Diggle is with Roy and well things are okay for now. Truth is, I honestly doubt that the cot is any comfort right now. Diggle will let us know if anything changes with Roy. Besides, how long had you been out on that bike for, before coming here? Just rest, it's practically morning soon anyway.'

Oliver was quiet, he didn't put up a fight. I think my argument was made. I knew that face, when he can't argue with me because I have a point. He looked from one end of my living room wall to the window and back again at me, with a small conceding smile and smirk. He sighed, something new for him.

'You have deal Felicity. But only a few hours'

And with that, I smacked his arm in encouragement, hurrying away to do some recon for extra blankets and pillows before it became any more awkward between us. Let it be known that distraction is an important skill. Especially if it helps towards healing. God knows he needed to be healed right now, and so did I.

I came back with the blanket and pillows and handed it to him, our fingers momentarily brushed together. I stared at his gorgeous lips unhelpfully and nodded suddenly.

'I hope this is okay,' I said, trying to lighten up the mood my eyes and hands moving with purpose, to clear the coffee table while simultaneously pushing my glasses back in it's place.

'This is fine, thank you Felicity,' he spoke calmly. He put the items down upon the couch. He moved back towards me to still my actions. His tired beautiful blue eyes grateful, admitting more than he would say.

'See you in a few,' I smiled at him, squeezing his hand as I turned and headed back to my room. 'If there's anything you need..,' I remembered to add.

'Goodnight Felicity,' he whispered back.

I nodded, and I closed my bedroom door leaving it unlocked and a slither of a gap in case he needed something.

* * *

Later, the morning would bring the likes of trouble we could never have foreseen.

* * *

_Thank you for reading, sorry! I made you lose time over this! My fly on the wall moment. Long fly on the wall moment. Thank you for reviewing, following, alerting...this was very different from my last two chapters..._


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